


Entanglements

by ponygirl



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005), Doctor Who (Big Finish Audio)
Genre: F/M, Gen, The TARDIS is a sneaky so-and-so, They keep meeting in the wrong order, Timey-Wimey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-18
Updated: 2013-06-18
Packaged: 2017-12-15 09:46:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/848101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ponygirl/pseuds/ponygirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor has made it very clear to Evelyn that he is not interested in romantic entanglements. It's one of the things they agree on, actually.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Entanglements

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lost_spook](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_spook/gifts).



"Doctor," said Evelyn Smythe from her precarious two-handed grip on the shuddering TARDIS console, "If you didn't want to take me to the Colonial Legacy Conference in Utrecht, you only had to say so. There's no need for the TARDIS-as-tumble-dryer routine!"

The Doctor risked loosening one hand from his own handhold to lunge for the secondary stabilisers, looking alarmingly harried by the ship's instability, to Evelyn's practised eye.

"I assure you, Evelyn, our current tumultuous turbulence has nothing to do with me! Utrecht is a lovely city-- in fact, I was looking forward to dining at the _Brasserie Goeie Louisa_ while you hobnobbed with your fellow historians. Unfortunately, something appears to have pulled the TARDIS out of the vortex; we're materialising in normal space and she isn't responding to the controls. Hold on!"

"I am holding on!" Evelyn said as the sounds of materialisation shrieked around them, and the central rotor shuddered to a halt with a final, wrenching jerk. A moment later, the Doctor was springing up from where he'd been thrown against the wall.

"Are you all right, Evelyn?" he asked.

Evelyn got her feet under her and pried cramped fingers from the edge of the console.

"Yes, yes. No need to fuss," she said. "But what could cause such a thing?"

"I'm not quite sure, to be honest," the Doctor answered, returning to hover over the console. "What's gotten into you, old girl? Eh?"

As if in answer, the scanner screen flared to life, displaying the inky black star-scape of outer space. In the centre of the image, a tiny figure in a spacesuit spun and twisted, arms and legs flailing.

"Good grief," Evelyn exclaimed.

"Something's wrong," the Doctor said grimly.

Something most definitely _was_ wrong. The scanner zoomed in on the distant figure, clearly showing the suit's torn air supply hose leaking oxygen into the unforgiving vacuum.

"Doctor, his air hose," Evelyn said. "We have to do something-- he'll die!"

"Look, Evelyn... he's seen us."

On the screen, the figure's arms and legs stilled as its slow spin turned its darkened faceplate toward the blue box. Very deliberately, it reached for the writhing air hose, wrestling with it until it was firmly held in both bulky gloves.

"What in heaven's name--" the Doctor cut himself off, shaking his head. "He's trying to use the torn hose as a thruster. But the calculations involved in counteracting the spin... even I would struggle to do it. Much less with no air!"

And yet, it was working. Evelyn watched as the figure's spin relative to the TARDIS slowed. Stopped. The suit grew in size on the screen, drifting toward them. Slowly, at first; then, faster.

"Extraordinary," murmured the Doctor.

"He's doing it," Evelyn agreed, impressed. "But how will that help? We don't have an airlock!"

"Ah, but the TARDIS doesn't need one, Evelyn," the Doctor said, one hand on the door control.

"What are you doing? We'll lose the atmosphere. Doctor-- we'll be blown out into space!"

Evelyn grabbed for the edge of the console again as the Doctor grinned at her and threw the door lever.

"Have a little faith, Evelyn," he said as the doors opened with stately grace. "The old girl is perfectly capable of keeping the inside, inside, and the outside, outside, without anything so gauche as an airlock."

True to his word, the air around them stayed calm and unperturbed as the doors swung open, revealing the dark velvet of space beyond. Evelyn cautiously released her grip on the control panel as the Doctor shot a final assessing look at the scanner screen, before hurrying across to the open door and leaning out precariously. Seconds later, the bulky, space-suited form flew into his arms, the momentum spinning both of them around.

The Doctor managed a semi-controlled collapse onto the TARDIS floor with his burden, and Evelyn hurried to close the door behind them, not wishing to tempt fate. When she turned back, the unfortunate astronaut was fumbling at the suit's helmet, movements weak and uncoordinated. The Doctor batted their new passenger's hands away, quickly and competently opening the suit's seal with a soft hiss of equalising pressure.

The figure inside gasped for air as the Doctor carefully lifted the headgear away, revealing a riot of long, curly hair caught up in a messy ponytail.

"As appreciative as I am of the pick-up, sweetie," said a feminine contralto, "It would have been a great deal simpler if you'd just materialised on the coordinates I sent you. Seriously, what is the point of having a comm unit if you can't be bothered to answer your-- oh, dear. Oops."

Their unexpected guest turned away from the Doctor slowly, throwing a calculated look around the console room, and Evelyn's inner feminist gave a silent little cheer. The astronaut was indeed a woman-- and a striking one at that. Frost from her close brush with the unforgiving cold of space clung to features with just a little too much character to be classically beautiful.

"'Oops'?" the Doctor parroted, sarcasm in full force. "Perhaps you mistook my TARDIS for a different space-faring, dimensionally transcendental Police Box?"

"Er, yes. Something like that," said the woman.

"Doctor," Evelyn cut in, reproving. "Let the poor woman catch her breath for a moment before you start in with the third degree. Are you injured, my dear? I'm Evelyn, by the way, and this is the Doctor."

The newcomer smiled warmly, eyes lighting up as she met Evelyn's. "Evelyn, is it? I must say, I'm delighted to meet you. And no, aside from a touch of frostbite and a set of sore lungs, I don't think there's any serious damage."

"I'm pleased-- though surprised-- to hear it," said the Doctor dryly, helping the woman to her feet, where she swayed a moment before steadying herself. "Not many humans could shake off the effects of a decompressing spacesuit so quickly... or perform complicated vector analysis and thrust computations while undergoing said decompression."

"I'm tougher than I look," she answered. Still smiling, the woman offered a gloved hand to Evelyn. "Professor Melody... Smith, at your service."

Evelyn didn't miss the slight hesitation as she shook the woman's hand, and neither did the Doctor, apparently.

"You sound a bit unsure of that," he said.

Professor Smith turned her attention to the Time Lord, completely unfazed. "Yes, well. Smith is my married name, you see. Takes a bit of getting used to. Now, I'm afraid I'll have to ask the two of you for a further favour. Unfortunately, my earlier predicament wasn't due to mechanical failure; it was actually a not-particularly subtle murder attempt."

"Good grief," said Evelyn. "You seem remarkably calm about the whole thing, if you don't mind me saying so."

The woman laughed; a pleasant sound. "If I got upset every time someone wanted me dead, I'd be a nervous wreck. Best just to get on with things, I've found."

"Well, it sounds like you and the Doctor should get along famously," Evelyn said, raising her eyebrow when the Doctor huffed in response.

"Oh," said Professor Smith in a low, sultry voice, "We will. Of that, I have no doubt."

And then, Evelyn had to look twice, delighted, because the Doctor was actually _blushing_.

"Yes, quite," he said, clearing his throat self-consciously. "Now, perhaps you'd care to explain the situation in more detail, Professor 'Smith'?"

The woman in question ignored the less-than-subtle emphasis on her last name, her demeanour becoming immediately more serious and professional as she spoke.

"Are you aware of the organisation called the Church?" she began.

The Doctor nodded. "You refer, of course, to the 51st-century religious-military organisation under the control of the Papal Mainframe?"

"Just so," said Professor Smith. "I am currently heading up an archaeological expedition under the aegis of the Church, searching for relics of the dead civilisation on Cymeria VI... or at least, I _was_. Unfortunately, our search was extremely successful."

"Why 'unfortunately'?" Evelyn asked.

"Because what we found was a weapon of near unimaginable power-- a planet-killer. The control array was in the ruins of the capital city, nearly intact. Almost as if the Church new _exactly_ where to look for it, if you take my meaning," she said, meeting the Doctor's eyes with a significant look.

"You're implying that the Church knew of the weapon's existence ahead of time, and funded the expedition for the purpose of retrieving it," said the Doctor flatly.

"Without informing me-- yes. The control array in the city pointed to an asteroid in orbit, where the body of the weapon was housed. My team and I were taken there by the crew of the vessel that brought us here, and forced by the Clerics to excavate the weapon for the purpose of removing it to the base at Demon's Run."

Evelyn broke in, confused. "Why would a church want weapons?"

The Doctor looked at her sadly. "As a historian, do you really need to ask that question, Evelyn?"

It was a fair point. While it was difficult to envision the CoE building missiles in a secret bunker under an abbey, even in her own period religion and violence were often closely intertwined.

"In this era, the Church is more of a military institution than a spiritual one," the Doctor continued, "though many of the religious trappings remain. The thought of the Bishops gaining control of that level of weaponry, however, is deeply disturbing. Particularly now-- aren't they in the process of ramping up for some kind of war at present?"

"Indeed they are," Professor Smith confirmed grimly.

"Well, we must go to this asteroid at once!" the Doctor proclaimed. "I'm sure I can reason with whoever is in charge of the operation."

"That would... probably be counterproductive at this point," said their passenger.

"Would it, now? And why would that be, exactly?" asked the Doctor, straightening to his full height to look down at the newcomer imperiously.

"Because I blew up the asteroid," answered the woman.

"You _what_?" the Doctor exclaimed. "I thought you were an archaeologist!"

"Among other things," said Professor Smith. "And there's no need to look at me like that; I gave everyone plenty of warning to get back to the ship safely."

"You have to admit, Doctor," Evelyn interjected, amused, "she has solved the problem rather neatly. Though it's small wonder they wanted to kill you afterward, my dear. I imagine they were quite cross, if this weapon was as powerful as all that."

The woman looked serious. "They were, and it was. With it, you could displace the core of any planet within a hundred light years, causing the surface to crack like an egg... and all without leaving the safety of your own capital."

"A terrible device. Perhaps, in this case, the universe is better off without that particular piece of history," the Doctor allowed. "So, given that you've already solved your own problem, what exactly is this favour that you need from us?"

"I must get back to the Clerics' ship to retrieve my archaeological team," said Professor Smith. "It's likely that the Church will punish them for my actions, if I don't."

The Doctor frowned. "Madam, while I am sympathetic to your position, the TARDIS is not a taxi service."

The woman smiled, running a hand over the edge of the console almost affectionately. Evelyn glanced at the central column in surprise as the ship's background hum pulsed louder under her touch.

"No, of course she isn't," said their guest. "You misunderstand, Doctor. I only need you to drop me off at Luna University. I have a runabout of my own moored there. The Clerics' ship isn't heavily armed; I won't have a problem dealing with them. Once I get my people back, I'll take them to the Gamma Forests. The Forests are heaven-neutral. They'll be welcome there."

"It seems a reasonable request, Doctor," said Evelyn. "It's not as though you were going to throw her back into deep space-- you'll have to take her somewhere, and I wouldn't mind seeing this Lunar University."

"Ah, I thought I recognised a fellow academic," said Professor Smith with a smile.

"Professor of History at Sheffield Hallam University, as it happens," said Evelyn with a grin of her own, adding, "That's on Earth."

"Well, I suppose I can't see the harm of it," said the Doctor. "Do you have the coordinates for our destination?"

Evelyn watched with interest as the woman moved to the central console and tapped in coordinates as if she'd done it a hundred times.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "My, my, Professor. You're just full of surprises."

"I do try," replied their guest in a dry tone. "Though, at the risk of further taking advantage of your hospitality, I'm afraid my adventure in depressurisation has taken more of a toll on me than I realised. Would it be possible for me to sit down for a bit, and maybe get a glass of water?"

The woman was, in fact, becoming quite pale, and Evelyn moved forward to take her arm.

"Here, come with me," she said, leading the woman to the interior door. "I'll get you something to eat and drink, and you can rest for a few minutes. You must be exhausted."

"Evelyn?" the Doctor called as the pair started down the corridor to the TARDIS kitchen. "A word with you before you see to our guest?"

"I'll be right with you, dear," Evelyn said, and returned to the Doctor's side where they could speak without being overheard.

"There's something that the Professor hasn't told us," he said quietly. 

"Yes, I had that impression, as well," Evelyn said. "Whatever it is, perhaps a sympathetic ear and a slice of chocolate cake will convince her to open up."

The Doctor nodded. "Very well. But be careful. I'm not entirely sure we can trust her."

Evelyn smiled, and patted his arm. "Don't worry, Doctor. 'Careful' is my middle name."

* * *

"So, Professor Smith," Evelyn began once the woman was ensconced at the battered kitchen table with a mug of tea and a slice of cake before her. "Tell me more about yourself."

"Please," said the professor. "Call me Melody. And there's not much to tell, really."

Evelyn leaned back in her chair, sipping her own tea. "Well, I wouldn't say that, dear. For a start, there's the fact that you apparently know the Doctor, but he doesn't know you. I don't believe I've ever heard anyone call him 'sweetie' before. As a time traveler, I find the situation quite interesting, personally."

Melody froze in the act of raising a forkful of cake, a slow smile spreading over her features.

"Oh, you are good," she said, gesturing toward Evelyn with the fork. "He told me you were good, but you are _good_."

"So, you _are_ someone from his future, then?"

Melody sobered, a wistful look crossing her face. "Yes. My being here is a mistake. I called the Doctor for help, but not _this_ Doctor. I think the TARDIS may have taken things into her own hands, so to speak... she has a bit of a soft spot for me, apparently."

"Hmm... we were pulled out of the time vortex quite abruptly," said Evelyn, "and as soon as we materialised, there you were."

"The TARDIS is a complicated entity," Melody said. "I'm not sure a sentient time machine really grasps the concepts of past and future in the same way that humans and Time Lords do. Whatever the case, I shouldn't be here-- I'm not supposed to have met this Doctor. Doing so could disrupt the web of causality unless I take action to fix things."

Evelyn frowned. "I think I understand the nature of the problem you're describing, dear, but I don't see what can be done about it at this point. You've met him; there's no undoing it now."

"There is a solution, Evelyn, though I don't think you're going to like it."

Evelyn raised an eyebrow. "Try me," she said.

"The key lies in redefining the problem," said Melody, pausing to eat another bite of cake. "Rather than saying that I was not supposed to meet the Doctor this early in his timeline, I could say that he is not supposed to _remember_ me meeting him this early in his timeline."

"Actually, you're right," said Evelyn. "I don't think I like where this is going. What are you proposing-- hitting him over the head and hoping he gets amnesia?"

Melody huffed a breath of laughter. "Nothing so violent. Besides, I'm sure you know how hard his head can be."

Really, Evelyn was finding it all too easy to believe that this woman knew her Time Lord friend.

"I have a drug that causes a brief period of disorientation and suggestibility. It's harmless otherwise. I could use it on him right before I leave, and if you were to explain his condition in some way that he wouldn't think to question, it's likely he'd forget all about my presence-- almost certainly the details of my appearance."

"Why should I trust you, though?" Evelyn said. "You're asking me to deceive a man that I consider to be a very dear friend. I'm not at all comfortable with the idea of keeping a secret like that from him."

Melody smiled softly, a sad look in her eyes.

"And yet," she said, "you're keeping a secret from him right now."

Evelyn's heart gave a treacherous lurch.

" _How could you know about that?_ " she asked, even as her mind answered _because she's from the future, you daft old woman._

"The Doctor told me," Melody said simply.

"But-- does that mean-- "

_He must find out. In the future, the Doctor must find out about her secret._

"Evelyn, please calm down. I'm sorry to upset you," Melody said evenly. "I'm sure you understand that I can't tell you details of the future. Believe me when I say that everything will work out for the best. He'll understand why you chose not to tell him."

Evelyn couldn't help the little flutter of hope that stirred in her breast.

"He... will?" she asked, ashamed of the slight tremor in her voice.

Melody reached across the table to lay a hand over Evelyn's, and when she spoke, her response was rock solid in its certainty. "Yes. I promise-- he will."

Evelyn couldn't help it, she covered her face with her free hand, fighting back a sob.

After giving her other hand a final reassuring squeeze, Melody returned her attention to her tea and cake, giving Evelyn a moment of relative privacy to wrestle herself back under control before surreptitiously wiping her eyes behind her glasses.

"He also mentioned your chocolate cake," said the other woman, a soft note of humour in her voice. "I have to say, he wasn't exaggerating... which is really rather unusual, for him."

Evelyn choked on a shred of laughter. "Thank you. The trick is to use real melted chocolate. I'll give you the recipe, if you like. Back to our current discussion, though. Let's say that I was to go along with this plan of yours. How do you propose to administer this drug?"

"With a kiss. It's hallucinogenic lipstick."

"I... beg your pardon?" Evelyn replied, not sure if she was more thrown by the concept of hallucinogenic lipstick, or someone kissing the Doctor.

"Don't look so shocked. After all, he and I _are_ married in the future..."

"I... I... " Evelyn began; then stopped herself. "You know what? I'm not even going to ask. Would you like that cake recipe? Because if we're going to do this, it should probably be sooner rather than later."

Melody smiled. "No, thank you. I'm afraid I'm not really the baking type. Too much patience required; not enough adrenaline generated. You know, he tried to teach me to make fish fingers and custard once. I threatened him with divorce on the spot. We ended up going to the Savoy in 1894, instead."

Evelyn tilted her head, slowly.

"You know, as odd as it sounds, I can actually kind of picture it," she said. "You and the Doctor, I mean."

"Well, we do share a certain outlook on life, I suppose," Melody said.

Evelyn shook her head, indicating the woman's riot of messy curls. "I was thinking more about the hair, to be honest. Well, and the penchant for explosions. Never mind, though."

Melody only laughed, and finished the last bite of her cake.

* * *

Back in the console room, Evelyn leaned against the console next to the Doctor, looking up at him.

"I showed her to the wardrobe room so she could change out of that damaged spacesuit," she told him. "I agree with you that she has a secret, but I talked with her for some time, and I'm convinced that she means us no harm."

"Hmm," the Doctor said. "You're an excellent judge of character, Evelyn, and I've no solid reason to disagree with your assessment. I only wish I could determine what it was that caused the TARDIS to materialise in the first place! I don't like puzzles."

"Not every puzzle needs a solution, Doctor. We saved someone's life-- isn't that enough for now?"

The Doctor eyed her with a raised eyebrow, a slight smile tugging at one corner of his lips. "Hark at you, Doctor Smythe," he said, teasing gently. "Becoming philosophical in your old age?"

"Says the six-hundred-plus-year-old Time Lord," she returned sardonically, poking him in the arm.

"Not interrupting anything, am I?" came a voice from the inner door as Melody entered the room, clad in a rust-coloured wrap-around tunic, jodhpurs, and tall boots that buckled at the sides. Her mane of curly hair was freed from its ponytail, and a blaster nestled in a leather holster slung low on her hips.

Evelyn couldn't help her double-take. If this woman and the Doctor really were married in the future, then he hadn't done badly for himself at all-- the old dark horse.

"Not at all," the Doctor replied easily. "In fact, we should be arriving on Luna any moment now."

As if on cue, the time rotor settled into stillness with a soft _ping_. The scanner flared to life, displaying the sleek interior lines of a small spacecraft.

"Your ship, I presume?" the Doctor asked.

Melody smiled broadly at both of them. "Indeed she is. Thank you both."

She turned to Evelyn, and enveloped her in a brief embrace. "Remember," she whispered, "everything will be all right in the end. I promise."

Turning to the Doctor, Melody extended her right hand. When the Doctor grasped it, she used it to pull herself close enough to reach up and brush her lips to his.

"Thank you... Sweetie," she said as she leaned back, mischief shining in her eyes.

"Honestly," the Doctor huffed, moving back a step to put space between them. "Humans in the 51st century. It's like you don't know the... the meaning of... per... persa... personable boundaries..."

"Doctor!" Evelyn exclaimed, moving forward in tandem with Melody to steady the Time Lord as he wavered.

Between them, they manoeuvred the Doctor to a seated position on the floor, leaning him back against a roundeled wall. Evelyn bit her lip, watching as Melody caressed his cheek with one hand.

"It's all right, my love," she said softly. "You should sleep. Things will make more sense when you wake up. Evelyn will look after you."

Melody looked up at her then, and Evelyn was surprised to see her eyes full of unshed tears, though her lips curved in a small smile. The Doctor's disjointed mumbling degenerated into soft snores; his head falling forward to rest against his chest.

"Thank you," Melody said. "Thank you for trusting me, and for being here for him. He might not say it aloud, but your presence means the world to him."

Evelyn could only nod, mutely.

"I'll set the coordinates for the sector of space where you found me, on a delayed dematerialisation," Melody continued. "You know what to do when you get there?"

"I think so," Evelyn said.

* * *

"Doctor!" Evelyn called, shaking the Time Lord's shoulder and patting his cheeks. "Wake up!"

The Doctor groaned, and opened his eyes slowly.

"Oh, thank goodness," she said. "How do you feel?"

"Like someone keeps ringing the cloister bell," he said. " _Inside my head._ What happened? Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine. The TARDIS was shaking like a tumble dryer. You said it was being pulled out of the Time Vortex, and then you got thrown head-first into a wall. Do you remember?" she asked anxiously.

"Vaguely," said the Doctor, rubbing his forehead. "What happened after that?"

"I think we materialised," Evelyn said. "At least, we stopped shaking and the console went 'ding'."

"Oh, very scientific," came the dry response. "Help me up, Evelyn; I should see where we are."

Evelyn heaved on the Doctor's arm, helping him to his feet and steadying him while he got his balance back.

"Thank you," he said absently, already perusing the readouts on the console. "Hmm. We're in space. There's a planet nearby... and some debris. Looks like the remains of an asteroid. The explosion that destroyed it is recent-- _very_ recent."

"Could that have caused the turbulence?" Evelyn asked innocently.

"I wouldn't have thought so," said the Doctor. "Though to be fair, I don't have a better explanation. Very peculiar. Very peculiar, indeed."

"Well, at least the TARDIS doesn't seem to be damaged. How's your head?" Evelyn asked.

"Better. More _Tubular Bells_ than cloister bell, at this point." The Doctor began inputting new coordinates, moving around the console as he spoke. "Did I ever tell you that I met Mike Oldfield once, when he was a young man?"

"No, Doctor," Evelyn said patiently. "Do tell."

"Well, I did. Convinced him to stop chasing skirts and focus on his music. 'Mike,' I told him, 'instrumental music is the wave of the future. But you'll never get anywhere if you let yourself be distracted by romantic entanglements.' Not, you understand, that I've ever been tempted myself..."

Evelyn only smiled as the sound of dematerialisation trumpeted around them.

"No, of course not, Doctor."

_fin_

**Author's Note:**

> My unforgivably late entry for lost_spook in the 2013 Spring Sixathon. Also doing double duty as my unforgivably late entry for the Sixth Doctor fanwork-a-thon at Who_at_50. Lost_spook wanted Six meeting any or all of the following: Amy, Rory, River, or anything with Six and Evelyn.


End file.
